The Truth Will Set You Free
by Dracodoodle
Summary: Harry Potter has spent the months after the war fighting for fair trials for former Death Eaters. When he questions Draco Malfoy whilst under the influence of veritaserum, a shocking truth is revealed that may change everything. HP/DM one-shot.


**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter universe and characters belongs to J.K. Rowling, unfortunately not me.

 **Summary:** Harry Potter has spent the months after the war fighting for fair trials for former Death Eaters. When he questions Draco Malfoy whilst under the influence of veritaserum, a shocking truth is revealed that may change everything. HP/DM one-shot. 

"If the veritaserum is not going to be used ethically then it shouldn't be used at all! That was the grossest misuse of power that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing!" Harry Potter roared while pacing around a room filled with members of the Wizengamot, Ministry officials, and the Minister of Magic himself.

After the war was over, everyone had expected Harry to go directly into Auror training, but he had surprised everyone by involving himself in the trials of all the former Death Eaters. There were many individuals in the wizarding community, including high ranking Ministry officials, that felt that anyone who was marked should just be thrown in Azkaban immediately, but Harry had fought hard to make sure that everyone received a fair trial. Once the trials had begun, however, he had been horrified to realize that just because the trials were taking place did not mean they were fair or even humane. People seemed to believe that if someone had any connection to Voldemort then he or she no longer deserved any sort of human decency.

The biggest bone of contention for Harry was the use of veritaserum. He could obviously appreciate the benefits of using the potion in the trials, but not the way it was being used. Harry had caught wind of some of the terrible, degrading, and very much irrelevant questions that were being asked. After he had heard some of the horror stories he had demanded that he be present for any trial that was going to be using the potion in hopes that he could stop some of the injustice. Unfortunately, his presence wasn't enough to stop the incidents, apparently.

The current issue at hand was the trial of one Narcissa Malfoy, one of the trials in which Harry felt personally invested. If it had not been for Narcissa's lie in the Forbidden Forest, he would been killed and Voldemort would have won the war. The trial was currently in recess until the issue was resolved. "Mr. Potter," one of the Wizengamot began. "We have already agreed to only use veritaserum while you are present, despite the fact that you are not actually employed at the Ministry but are simply a war hero. I do not see what the problem is."

Harry whipped his head around to stare at the person who had spoken, his emerald eyes narrowed dangerously. "The problem," he hissed. "Is that, despite my presence, the potion is being used completely unethically."

One of the other members of the Wizengamot sniffed in annoyance. "I saw nor heard nothing unethical occurring."

Harry was so mad he was afraid the windows in the room were in danger of exploding any moment. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself before answering. "Oh really? Then please someone explain to me how it is relevant to a trial the color of Ms. Parkinson's knickers or the size of Ms. Bulstrode's breasts. Please someone explain to me how Mrs. Malfoy's _sex life_ is at all relevant to whether or not she committed any crimes that require imprisonment. Please explain to me how any of this information helped in the Wizengamot's decision about sentencing these women!" Harry demanded, looking around the room. He was happy to see that many of the witches and wizards present had the decency to avoid eye contact in embarrassment. "I understand that the war impacted everyone in this room, but that does not mean those on trial deserve to be ridiculed and humiliated. That woman on the stand _saved my life_ at one of the most critical points in the war. You have no idea what she went through, and she deserves a little respect."

"I'm going to be candid here and say that I agree with Mr. Potter. It is dismaying to me that a boy, just barely 18, is acting far more mature than those of you who have been charged with upholding the law. What do you propose to remedy this, Harry?" Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current Minister of Magic, asked Harry in his usual calm manner.

Harry considered this for a moment. "Let me ask the questions. I can take a list from the accused's representation and members of the Wizengamot. I can receive questions in writing during the trial, but let me be the one to actually ask them. That way there is no way for irrelevant nonsense to make its way into the courtroom," he suggested, looking at Kingsley for support. Kingsley smiled slightly and nodded.

"I think that's a very reasonable solution, don't you all?" Kingsley inquired, observing those gathered. There were some grumbles, but everyone there knew better than to argue with the Minister himself. "Alright, then it's settled. We will create an official position for Mr. Harry Potter within the Ministry so that he is able to legally ask these questions and reconvene Mrs. Malfoy's trial tomorrow at 10 o'clock."

With that, the group knew they had been dismissed and began to file out of the conference room they had convened in. "Thanks, Kingsley," Harry said with a smile. He knew without the Minister's support, his pleas would have fallen on deaf ears.

Kingsley nodded curtly in response. "I'm proud of you for sticking up these people. It would be very easy and understandable if you had just ignored the plights of those on the wrong side of his war. It is very noble of you to stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves right now."

"Well I am a Gryffindor after all," Harry reminded him with a wink. Kingsley chuckled, and the pair made their way out of the conference room to continue with their days.

The next day, Narcissa Malfoy's trial concluded. She was sentenced to a year on house arrest and charged a steep fine as reparation but no time in Azkaban. Harry felt that it was the best they could have hoped for, and Narcissa had made sure to express her gratitude to Harry for his role in her trial. Since the first day, things had gone much better, and there were no more incidents. Harry had officially been made the Wizengamot Inquisitor. He wasn't sure how he felt about the title, mostly because of its similarity to those who were a part of Umbridge's reign of terror, but he was happy that the job was his. Kingsley had offered him a modest salary to accompany the position, but Harry had asked that the money go directly to various charities working on rebuilding after the war. He had plenty of money from his parents and Sirius that he was okay without a salary for now.

Now that the trials were over for the day, Harry was free to do what he pleased so he made his way down to the basement of the Ministry where the holding cells for those awaiting trial were located. The detainees were technically not allowed visitors save for their legal representation but being the Boy Who Lived had its perks. He hated using his name to get special privileges, but he was willing to do it when it helped others. So Harry had taken to checking on some of those awaiting trial to make sure things were okay and give updates when they were relevant.

As he made his way through the cells, he finally stopped in front of the one he was looking for: Draco Malfoy's cell. He had spent quite a bit of time here over the past couple of months. After the events of the war and Draco's role in them, Harry had decided it was time to make peace. The first time he had visited, he had expected hostility, but instead Draco was more than happy to make amends as well. Since that day, Harry had made sure to visit every few days, if nothing else to keep the man company.

"Hey, Draco," Harry greeted cheerfully.

"Potter," he responded with a nod. Harry rolled his eyes. He had asked Draco to call him Harry several times, but every time he refused.

"I have some news for you about your mother's trial," Harry informed him.

That got Draco's attention. He moved closer to the front of the cell, looking at Harry with wide, questioning eyes. "Is it over?"

Harry nodded. "She was sentenced to a year of house arrest and fined but no Azkaban."

Draco slumped against the bars in relief. "Thank you," he choked out. "Thank you so much, Harry. She never would have avoided Azkaban without you."

Harry felt his heart flip in triumph after hearing Draco use his given name. "She didn't deserve Azkaban," Harry answered, reaching out to squeeze Draco's hand through the bars. "Plus it was worth it to finally convince you to use my first name," he added with a wink.

Draco gave Harry a slight smile in response. Harry couldn't help but beam back. He took every smile that Draco gave him as a personal victory that he was making his time locked up a little more bearable. "You are ridiculous, Potter," Draco snapped without any real bite behind it.

"Aw back to Potter, huh?" Harry asked with a mock pout.

Draco rolled his eyes but chuckled quietly. "You'll live. It's what you're known for isn't it?" he asked with a playful smirk.

The pair fell into a silence that Harry was surprised but pleased to realize was a comfortable one. They had made such progress since their schooldays, and it warmed Harry to his core. He never thought that he would ever be visiting Malfoy in his holding cell, let alone visiting him, joking around, and legitimately enjoying his company.

"So there's something that I wanted to warn you about," Harry began carefully. Draco raised an eyebrow in question. "During your trial, I'll be the one asking you questions while you're under veritaserum."

Draco's trial was a few days away, and Harry thought he had the right to know and express his feelings before he was blindsided in the courtroom. "Okay," Draco said slowly. "May I ask why?"

"There were a few...incidents during some of the other trials where veritaserum was used inappropriately so I am now asking all questions. The Wizengamot is under silencing charms so they can hear but can't actually say anything to avoid embarrassing questions," Harry explained.

"And this was your idea?" Draco inquired.

Harry nodded. "At first, I was just in on the trials to discourage wrongdoing, but it wasn't enough."

"How noble of you," Draco snorted in what Harry assumed was supposed to be a derisive manner.

Harry shrugged. "You know me," he teased.

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched in amusement. "I guess I should expect nothing less. Thanks for the heads up."

"I hope it won't make you too uncomfortable," Harry said sincerely.

"Just make sure you go easy on me," Draco joked with a wink.

Harry's stomach did a little flip, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what had caused it. "Are you trying to influence the Wizengamot Inquisitor?" he demanded teasingly.

Draco burst out laughing, surprising Harry. He continued to laugh, bending over to clutch his stomach. "Oh, Merlin. Is that really your title?" Draco breathed in between fits of laughter.

Harry scowled in response. "I know, it sounds ridiculous, but yes it is."

"The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, and now the Wizengamot Inquisitor. Such an illustrious string of titles for such a young man," Draco teased.

Harry attempted to deepen his scowl, but he couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face. "Shut up, you," he berated.

"I'm sorry. There isn't much entertainment down here. I needed that, Potter."

"I'm glad I could be of service," Harry responded wryly. "But seriously, it's good to see you smile, despite everything. It'll all be over soon."

"Then it'll be off to Azkaban," Draco bit out, the atmosphere immediately sobering.

"Not if I have anything to do with it!" Harry exclaimed. "You saved my life just like your mother. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you stay out of Azkaban."

Draco smiled slightly. "Thanks, Harry. I really do appreciate it. I'm not sure I deserve it, but thank you."

"Well luckily for you, I think you deserve it," Harry informed him matter-of-factly. He felt his cheeks heat up, worrying that he would make the other man uncomfortable with his conviction.

Draco shook his head in disbelief, his cheeks flushing slightly as well. "No need to get sappy," he mumbled, looking more embarrassed by the minute. "Shouldn't you be getting home to the Weaslette?"

Harry rolled his eyes. In the past, he would have been offended, but now that he had gotten to know Draco a little bit better he saw it for what it really was: a defense mechanism. "Her name is Ginny, but I don't think she would care where I am as we are no longer dating."

"Oh, sorry about that." Draco actually sounded sincere.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "It was a mutual decision. We just weren't right for each other, but I can take a hint. I can tell when I'm no longer wanted."

"That's not what I meant. I just didn't want you to feel obligated to stick around this depressing place," Draco protested.

"Well then I'll stay for a little longer. Not like there's anything excited going on at home."

Harry and Draco spent the next several minutes chatting about nothing in particular. Harry couldn't really explain why he continued to visit Draco so often, other than the fact that he enjoyed the other man's company. He had always planned on defending Draco at his trial, but over the past couple months his conviction to keep him out of Azkaban only increased. He knew it would be difficult, but he planned on doing his best.

The day of Draco Malfoy's trial had arrived, and it was a gloomy one. The weather could not be more fitting, in Harry's opinion, as he was in a foul mood. He had been up since the sun came up after tossing and turning for hours, meaning he was running on maybe an hour of sleep. Every time he had closed his eyes, he had been haunted of images of Draco being carted off to Azkaban. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration once more before making his way down to the room the trial was being held in. He took one calming breath before entering the chamber and taking his assigned seat.

A few members of the Wizengamot were already present and more were arriving by the minute. Harry wish he could sneak off to give Draco some words of encouragement before this affair began, but he knew that that would be a stretch to accomplish even for the Chosen One. Instead, he locked his eyes on the door that Draco would be entering through in a few moments, attempting to sit still. He was unsuccessful and found himself fidgeting constantly.

Before Harry knew it, it was time for the trial to begin. The whole room was on their feet as Draco was led into the courtroom by two guards. He was dressed in the drab, grey robes that were issued to all of those awaiting trial, his hands bound in front of him with invisible bonds. He kept his head down and his eyes trained on the floor as he was led to his seat, much to Harry's disappointment. He was hoping for an opportunity to shoot him a quick, reassuring smile.

The trial began with statements about the charges Draco faced and an outline of the proceedings. Harry's testimony was first on the list, and the questioning of the accused was slotted for after lunch. If all went well, they would have a sentence tonight or early tomorrow. The goal of every Death Eater trial was to be done in one day, as there were many trials to get through, and everyone was eager to move on from the war.

When Harry was called to the stand, he outlined everything he had seen, from the tortured boy in the bathroom crying because he was ordered to kill Dumbledore to the moment he lowered his wand when face to face with said target. He described the moment that he became aware that Draco could identify him but refused to do so in Malfoy Manor. He reiterated the fact that when Draco was initiated into Voldemort's ranks, he was not only under duress but a minor, and as was the case with many of the testimonies Harry had given, this one ended in applause from those in attendance. It was in that moment, just as he had finished speaking and everyone was clapping that Harry was finally able to make eye contact with Draco. The blond man gave him a small smile and mouthed 'Thank you', a look in his eyes that Harry couldn't quite interpret. Harry smiled back and nodded in return. After the exchange, Draco's eyes dropped back to his hands, and the trial continued.

The time had come to interrogate Draco under veritaserum. The trial was going well, as far as Harry could tell, but he was surprised to note that he was nervous about the next part. He had performed this duty in multiple trials at this point, but he had not been nervous about it. So to calm his nerves, Harry took a deep breath as he set up the supplies. He set the vial of veritaserum on the table and settled into his chair. Draco was brought around to the chair across the table from him.

Harry handed the veritaserum to one of the guards that flanked Draco. "Draco Lucius Malfoy," he intoned. "Do you consent to the use of veritaserum that has been brewed to last exactly half an hour? In the event that questioning is done before this time elapses, a short recess will take place to allow the potion to wear off."

"I do," Draco responded emotionlessly, glancing at Harry through the hair that had fallen into his face.

Harry nodded and offered him a small, reassuring smile. "Administer the potion," he commanded quietly. As the guard poured the potion into Draco's mouth, Harry performed the necessary charms to make sure the Wizengamot could not interrupt with any unnecessary questions.

Harry gave Draco a moment to swallow the potion before turning to his list of questions. "State your name for the record."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"What school did you attend?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"And what house were you in?"

"Slytherin."

Harry was happy to see that Draco's tense shoulders relaxed slightly with the easy questions that started out. This was partly to make sure the potion had time to fully set in and to help the questionee have a chance to get used to the effects. Unfortunately now was time for the more unpleasant questions. "Do you have the Dark Mark?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

"Yes," Draco responded, voice slightly strangled.

"How old were you when you took the Mark?"

"16."

"Why did you pledge allegiance to Voldemort?"

Draco winced slightly but didn't waver as he answered, "He threatened my entire family. I had no choice."

"What did he threaten you with?"

Draco looked down at the table and bit his lip slightly. His face began to flush with the effort to either not remember or not respond. Harry couldn't be sure which. Although he knew Draco would have no choice but to answer. "He threatened to rape and torture my mother while I was forced to watch. If I still didn't support him, he told me that he would use the Imperius Curse to make me kill both my parents, and then he would keep me alive for a few weeks, slowly starving to death and agonizing over the fact that I had murdered my family." Draco gave a slight sob before continuing. "I tried to defy him, but he went after my mother. I couldn't let him hurt her anymore."

At this he lifted his head to look at Harry, pleading him with his eyes to believe him, to understand him. Harry gave him a sympathetic look as he plowed on with his questions. This was much harder than any other trial of which he had been apart. He didn't realize how hard it would be to have to hear exactly what Draco went through. Part of him felt guilty for not reaching out and attempting to help him when he noticed how tortured he had become in their sixth year.

Finally, they were just about through all of the questions. There were just a few more left about the night that Draco had refused to identify Harry, and then they would be done. At that point, he would be allowed to sit with Draco until the sentencing if Draco was alright with it. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. We're just about done. Why didn't you identify me when I was brought to Malfoy Manor with Ron and Hermione?"

Harry watched as all of the color drained from Draco's face. Harry was puzzled by this. This should be a relatively easy question so it made no sense to him that Draco would look so panicked. Some of the color returned to his cheeks as he seemed to be fighting answering the question. "I didn't want to see you die. I wanted you to save everyone, save me, and defeat Voldemort." He paused as sweat began to break out on his forehead, clearly straining to not continue talking. Harry wanted to help, but he had no idea how. He had already asked the question, and unless he could hold out for the last couple minutes until the potion wore off, Draco would have no choice but to finish the answer. A look of remorse flashed across Draco's face as he finally succumbed to the potion and blurted out, "and because I'm in love with you."

Harry snapped his head up to stare at Draco in shock. His heart began beating erratically, and he began sweating profusely. He could feel his stomach start to twist into knots. He had no idea what to say or do, let alone what he was feeling. "That's all of the court's questions," Harry choked out before running out of the room and into the first loo he saw, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. _What had he done?_

Deep down, Harry knew that it was not his fault that Draco had been coerced into revealing something so personal that he clearly hadn't wanted revealed. There was no way that he could have predicted that such a seemingly innocent and very relevant question would have such catastrophic results. That didn't stop him from feeling guilty, and he was so overwhelmed by the shock and guilt that he couldn't even begin to process what he felt about the actual confession.

What he did know, however, was that he couldn't miss the sentencing. So Harry pulled himself into a standing position, cast a quick cleaning spell on his mouth, straightened his clothes, and marched back into the courtroom with a lot more confidence than he felt. The chaos that had inevitably erupted after Draco's confession was beginning to die down as the court was called to order. "The Wizengamot will now convene to determine sentencing of Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Harry watched as the clearly humiliated and defeated man was led out into the waiting chamber. He followed not too far behind as he was not permitted to be present for sentencing discussions. He made his way over to where Draco was asked to sit, but much to his dismay, the guards wouldn't let him near the ex-Slytherin. "Sorry, Mr. Potter. No visitors," one of them informed him flatly.

"But I've been permitted to visit the rest of those on trial," he protested.

"Sorry, we've been told you're not allowed," the other guard said with a shrug.

Harry felt himself deflate in defeat. He needed to be able to talk to Draco, to make sure he was okay. He had no idea what to do about his confession, but he wanted to be able to keep Draco calm while awaiting sentencing. He began pacing outside the door to the room Draco was being held in, pulling at his hair in frustration. After several minutes of this without any solutions coming to him, he admitted defeat, flopping into the nearest chair to wait for the sentencing.

A couple hours later, the door to the courtroom opened, and Harry jumped to his feet. "The court has come to a decision," the member of the Wizengamot announced.

Harry hurried into the courtroom and found his seat. He felt sick to his stomach. In the next couple of minutes he could learn that Draco had been sentenced to time in Azkaban, and Harry wasn't sure what he would do if that happened. The pair had become friends over the last couple of months, and the last thing he wanted was for him to be sent to prison. In Harry's opinion, he didn't deserve it, but who knew if the Wizengamot agreed or not.

Draco was led into the chamber once again by the guards and asked to take a seat. The head of the Wizengamot began to read, but Harry only barely heard the beginning of the speech, which was the same for all those on trial about it being a unanimous decision, etc. Instead, he took the time to stare at his former nemesis. His head was down once again, and he looked miserable. Harry felt his heart clench in sympathy, wishing there was something he could do. He tuned back into the reading, just as the actual sentence was being read. "Draco Lucius Malfoy has been found guilty by this court of conspiring with Voldemort and endangering lives of innocent people. He is hereby sentenced to three months in Azkaban followed by 5 years probation and 500 hours community service to aid in rebuilding in the aftermath of the war. Given he was a minor at the time of taking the Mark and the testimony from Mr. Harry Potter, the court feels this is a fitting punishment. Mr. Malfoy, you will be escorted to the prison once the court is dismissed."

Harry felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Intellectually he could acknowledge that in the grand scheme of things, it could be much worse. Three months in Azkaban wasn't that long, but the fact that Draco was being subjected to that horrible place at all was heartbreaking. If he was honest with himself, he could admit that he truly thought he was going to be able to use his name and testimony to keep Draco out of Azkaban at all. Unfortunately, he must have overestimated his influence.

Vaguely, Harry registered that the court was being dismissed, and he snapped out of his thoughts. He had to talk to Draco before he was taken away. He hopped to his feet and rushed over to where he was still sitting, flanked by the guards. "Draco," he called as he approached. The guards exchanged a look but didn't stop him from moving to right in front of him.

Draco lifted his head to look at him, his face completely closed off and unreadable but with clear tear tracks on his face. "What do you want, Potter?" he snapped, his voice cold as ice.

Harry winced inwardly. He knew the other man was hurting and humiliated both due to his public confession and the sentence, but it hurt to hear the edge to his voice that had been missing since school. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I thought I could keep you out of Azkaban, but I failed you," Harry lamented, hoping his remorse would melt Draco's hard exterior.

"It's not your fault. You did your best. Without you, it would have been much worse I'm sure," Draco replied, his voice still emotionless.

"Everything's going to be okay though. You're strong, you can make it 3 months," Harry assured warmly.

That's when Draco's mask began to crack. "It's not going to be okay! I'm going to Azkaban. I can't do this, Harry, I can't!" he cried, somewhat hysterically, tears springing to his eyes once again.

Harry stared helplessly at the man in front of him, unsure of what to say. He was taken back to the bathroom in sixth year as that was the last time Harry had seen the blond man look so distraught. "You will be okay. I know you will. It'll be hard, but once you're out it'll all be over. I'll even keep you company while you do your community service," he offered with a small smile. He wasn't sure what possessed him to suggest such a large commitment, but when he saw Draco's eyes soften and his lips twitch, he was glad that he did.

"You'd do that for me?" he asked, his voice shaky but full of hope.

Harry nodded quickly, to show there was no hesitation from him. He opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by the guards. "Time to go, Mr. Malfoy."

And with that, the guards began to lead the man out of the courtroom. "It's going to be okay," Harry called after them, trying to give reassurance one last time.

Once Draco was gone, however, Harry felt all of the energy leave his body. He had failed, and now Draco was going to suffer because of it. He just wanted to go home and go to bed. As he reached into his pocket to grab his wand, he felt a paper that hadn't been there earlier. Confused he pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was a note addressed to him

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _I shouldn't be telling you this, but I felt you had the right to know. I didn't want to send that young man to Azkaban, but there were those that felt differently. Your testimony was wonderful. There were those that felt it was best to keep you away from the Malfoy boy after his confession. Don't let the world's opinions matter. If you feel the same, you tell him when he's out of Azkaban, others' opinions be damned._

Harry stared down at the letter in shock. There was no signature at the bottom, but it had to be from someone in the Wizengamot. He or she must have spelled it into his pocket before leaving. He was livid that Draco's confession was one of the reasons that he had been sent to Azkaban. It had nothing to do with the trial, and it certainly wasn't a reason to put him in prison. He balled his hands into fists, crinkling the letter in the process. He wasn't quite ready to process the rest of the letter, but he was ready for a drink. Screw sleep, he was going to get pissed.

A little over an hour later, Harry found himself sitting at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, downing his fifth (or was it sixth?) glass of firewhisky. He was pretty sloshed, but nothing seemed to make the thoughts of Draco go away. Although, he could admit that the nature of his thoughts had shifted some. Originally, he had sat fuming about the fact that the man had been sent to Azkaban. Then as the alcohol kicked in, his thoughts turned to those of guilt and sadness for what Draco would have to endure. Currently, his thoughts had moved to a surprising place that didn't bother Harry near as much as they would if he was sober. While he drank, Harry Potter found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to be Draco Malfoy's boyfriend. And he had to admit, after the last several weeks, he believed there were much worse things he could be in life.

Draco was funny, as Harry had recently learned, when he wasn't using his wit to insult everyone around him. He was intelligent. Not to mention the fact that he was bloody gorgeous. Harry wasn't sure when he had taken the time to memorize every detail of Draco's body, but now as he thought about it, he could appreciate how fit the other man was. "Is everything okay, Harry?" His thoughts were interrupted by Hannah Abbott, who he had been surprised to see was the new bartender at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry nodded distractedly. "Sure, can I get another one?" he asked, giving her a weak smile to reassure her that he was fine.

"Coming right up," she said, although she continued to watch Harry worriedly out of the corner of her eye. After she dropped off the drink, she disappeared into the back, for which Harry was grateful. He didn't like her watching him so closely.

Harry continued to contemplate Draco as he sipped his fresh drink. In all his thoughts, he had yet to actually give any thought to his earlier confession. Draco was _in love_ with him. Draco _Malfoy_ was in love with him. What was he going to do about it? He had successfully avoided the subject while talking to him earlier, but if they were going to be friends he was going to have to address it eventually. Harry sighed in frustration and rested his head on the bar. This was all too much for his alcohol addled mind.

"You alright there, mate?" a familiar voice asked, clasping him on the shoulder.

Harry snapped his head up to see his two best friends standing behind him, looking at him with concern. "Yeah, yeah, I'm great," he replied, attempting to smile.

"Then would you like to explain why you're sitting at the Leaky Cauldron, drinking your weight in alcohol?" Hermione asked, eyes wide with worry.

"Just need to blow off some steam," Harry replied, cursing himself inwardly as he slurred his words.

"Oh, Harry, what happened?" she inquired, putting an arm around his shoulder.

Harry simply shook his head. This is not something that he wanted to discuss at all, let alone in public. "Why don't we go back to our place and talk, huh?" Ron suggested, picking up on part of Harry's reluctance.

Harry sighed again but nodded. He allowed Hermione to grab his arm to side along Apparate him since he was far too intoxicated to Apparate himself. The moment his feet landed in Ron and Hermione's living room, Harry felt his stomach rebel. He ran to the loo and promptly threw up a good 75% of the alcohol he had consumed. He sank down to the bathroom floor with a groan.

A minute later there was a knock on the door. "Harry?" Hermione called softly. "You okay? I have a couple potions for you to take."

Harry slowly pulled himself to his feet and opened the door. "Thanks, Mione, you're the best."

Hermione smiled and handed him an anti-nausea potion. After it was clear that he could keep that down, she handed him a sobriety potion, followed by a hangover remedy. She carefully led him to the couch and rubbed his back soothingly as all of the potions kicked in. "Better now?" she murmured.

Harry nodded and flashed her a smile. "What would I do without you, 'Mione?" he joked.

"Die of alcohol poisoning, apparently," she reprimanded. "Now would you like to explain what you were thinking when you decided to try and drink yourself to death? Hannah was worried about you so she Flooed us to let us know."

Harry gave her an apologetic look. "I wasn't trying to drink myself to death, I was just upset."

"Clearly," Hermione said, the disapproval obvious in her voice.

"So what's going on, mate? You know you can tell us," Ron encouraged.

Harry took a deep breath before responding as calmly as possible. "Draco's trial was today." He saw Ron grimace out of the corner of his eye. He knew that Ron didn't approve of his friendship with Draco, but they had already fought about it. Ron still didn't understand, but he had promised to support him. "He was sentenced to Azkaban for 3 months, plus some community service and probation."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said sympathetically, pulling him into a hug. "I know you were hoping to keep him out completely, but it could be much worse."

"I know, but that's not all," he began hesitantly.

Hermione pulled back and regarded him carefully. "Okay. Did something else happen at the trial?"

Harry paused, contemplating whether he should say anything, but he decided he couldn't keep this to himself. He needed to tell his friends, or he may drive himself insane over the next three months. "When I asked him why he didn't identify me at Malfoy Manor," he began slowly. "He said that he didn't want me to die because he wanted me to defeat Voldemort. And because...well, because...he's...in love with me."

Hermione and Ron were silent for a beat before both yelling at the same time, "What?!"

Harry shrugged, not sure what else to say. "That's what he said, and he was under veritaserum at the time so I know he wasn't lying. I also got this letter after the trial," he told them, handing the letter to Hermione to read.

Hermione was silent as she read. When she was finished, she passed it to Ron, observing Harry thoughtfully. "That's just awful that they put him in Azkaban to keep him away from you, but you must know that it's not your fault he's there. You must know his punishment would be much worse without you," she said sternly.

"I know, but still. I feel awful," Harry moaned, dropping his head into his hands. Thankfully, Ron was silent as Harry wasn't sure he was ready for his friend's opinion on the matter.

"You know," Hermione started wearily. "It makes a lot of sense."

Harry lifted his head to look at his friend in confusion. "What does?" he inquired curiously.

"Mal-Draco being in love with you. He did spend many years fighting for your attention, even if it was negative attention. It's like little boys who torture the little girls they have crushes on. It's almost sweet, in a terribly twisted way," she explained, giggling quietly.

Harry stared at her with a look that suggested she had grown another head. "Are you mad?"

Hermione laughed with a shrug. "I'm just saying, if you really think about it, it's not really all that shocking. We just never interpreted his actions correctly. The real question is what are you going to do about it?"

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands once again. "I have no idea."

"Well, I think that whoever wrote the letter is right. If you have feelings for him, then you tell him and go for it. You deserve love more than anyone, Harry. If you don't, you're going to have to tell him that. You have three months to figure it out."

Harry nodded. The next three months were either going to be the slowest or the fastest of Harry's life. Either way, he wasn't looking forward to them.

 _Three months later_

Today was the day that Draco Malfoy was being released from Azkaban, and Harry Potter found himself sitting in the waiting room, waiting for him to show up here to retrieve his personal belongings. The past three months had been agonizing for Harry. He had decided what to do about Draco's confession within a week of the trial, making the time go by at a snail's pace. He hadn't been sure whether he should show up to greet Draco when he was released or not, but after he had given it some thought, he figured no one else would be here. Draco deserved to see a familiar face.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when the door to the inside of the prison was thrown open. A moment later, Draco appeared, looking a bit more haggard than usual. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was shaggy and unkempt. He was even paler than his normal complexion, but Harry couldn't help but think he looked more gorgeous than he had ever seen him look. His eyes, a dull grey, as opposed to the usual deep, expressive silver, met Harry's from across the room. There was a slight flicker of surprise in them, but that was the only acknowledgement Harry received. "Hello, Draco," Harry greeted warmly but quietly so as not to spook the other man.

"Potter, I didn't expect to see you here," Draco said, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Well, I figured with your mother under house arrest and most of you friends enjoying freedom in other countries, there wouldn't be anyone to meet you. I thought you deserved better than that," he replied with a smile.

Draco continued to regard him wearily, clearly unsure what to do or say. "Thank you," he said curtly, as he made his way to the clerk's window to retrieve any belongings and receive his discharge papers.

"So, what would you like to do first?" Harry inquired cheerfully. "We could go get you some food, or you could go home to see your mother right away if you would rather."

Draco shook his head slightly. "I'd really like to be alone for awhile, not sure where I'll go but I'll figure it out," he said, looking down at the floor.

"Well in that case, I'll take you back to my place. I'll make us some lunch, you really should eat something, you know. We can eat in silence if you'd like. Then you can pick a room upstairs to hang out in; there's about 20 of them. I won't bother you," Harry offered, somewhat desperately. He really wanted to be able to do _something_ for the other man, and he had moved into Grimmauld Place after school so he had plenty of room.

Draco nodded reluctantly. "Okay, thank you," he whispered, eyes avoiding Harry's.

The pair made their way outside of the prison to the Apparition point. Harry offered his arm to Apparate Draco, who took it wearily. When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, Draco released his grip immediately, somewhat to Harry's disappointment. "Well, this is it. You can make yourself comfortable in the living room while I fix us some lunch."

Draco didn't respond but moved into the direction that Harry gestured. Harry sighed as he walked to the kitchen. This was not going how he had hoped. Draco had been much more affected by Azkaban than Harry had anticipated. As he set to work fixing them some sandwiches, he tried to come up with a plan to snap the other man out of it, but he wasn't sure what would help. He set the sandwiches on plates after they were done, grabbed a bag of crisps, two cups of tea, and at the last minute, reached into the cupboard and grabbed a couple chocolate bars. He wasn't sure if a little chocolate would help after three months with Dementors, but it was worth a shot.

When Harry entered the living room, he was dismayed to find Draco simply staring stoically at the wall. He cleared his throat subtly so as not to startle the broken man and set lunch down on the small table in front of the couch. "Sorry it's not much, but I don't do a whole lot of cooking," Harry announced, keeping his voice light.

Draco gave him a half smile and reached for his food. He took small nibbles of his sandwich but didn't seem terribly interested in eating. Harry sighed inwardly, at a loss for what to do.

The silence stretched on as the two men continued to eat. Draco set down his sandwich after eating about a quarter of it and went back to staring at the wall. "Hey," Harry muttered softly, reaching out slowly to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "At least eat some chocolate."

Draco didn't say anything at first, but after a moment nodded. "Couldn't hurt, I guess," he acquiesced, reaching for one of the bars and taking a bite.

Harry smiled in relief. "Exactly, it can't hurt. It might even help." Draco ate almost the entire chocolate bar before he set that down as well. Harry figured if he was going to say anything to attempt to help Draco, this was his chance. "I can't imagine what you went through while in Azkaban so I completely understand that you need some time. If you need someone to talk to though, I'm here. And if you need somewhere to stay, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like. I'll stay out of your way until you're ready. It'll get better," he reassured, cautiously wrapping his arm around the frail man beside him.

Draco tensed for a minute before relaxing into Harry's side. It took a minute, but Harry soon realized that Draco's shoulders were shaking, his tears beginning to soak through the thin material of Harry's T-shirt. Harry tightened his grip on the man beside him and began to rub his back slowly, offering his nonverbal support. It was several minutes before Draco sat up and attempted to compose himself. He wiped away his tears quickly, obviously embarrassed at his breakdown. "Thank you," he choked out.

All Harry wanted to do was pull Draco back into a warm hug and help him feel better, but he could see the defensive walls coming up in the other man's eyes. "Anytime. Now, I know you said you want to be alone, so let me show you your room." He led Draco up the stairs and to one of the main bedrooms that had a bathroom attached. "Feel free to take a shower, if you like. There's paper and a quill on the desk if you want to write any letters. I have an owl that can deliver them. There's a library just across the hall in case you want to read. Is there anything else I can get you?" Harry asked, looking at Draco expectantly.

"Well, um, there is one thing," Draco began nervously. "I'd really like to take a shower, but I don't want to put these horrid clothes back on…"

Harry held up a hand. "Say no more, let me get you some clothes to borrow. T-shirt and pajama pants okay? Or would you like something nicer?"

"No that's fine. I'd like to be comfortable," Draco responded quietly.

Harry nodded and disappeared into his room. He returned a minute later, handing the clothes to Draco. "Well, if you need anything else, just let me know. I'll be around," he said awkwardly.

Draco nodded once before disappearing into the room and closing the door softly.

It was several hours later when Draco emerged from the room. Harry was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a book. When he heard footsteps on the stairs, he set his book down and looked up expectantly. Draco looked much better than he had earlier. His hair was clean and appeared to have been trimmed. The dark circles had faded a bit, and some of the color had returned to his cheeks. "Hi," Draco greeted shyly.

"Hi," Harry responded with a smile. "Feeling a little better?"

Draco gave a small smile in response. "Yes, thank you. For everything. I was able to take a shower and then had a nice nap in a real bed. Who knew you could miss something so simple?" he commented wryly.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling a bit better. You look better too," Harry pointed out, with a slight blush.

Draco flushed a bit in return. "Well, I suppose I should pay mother a visit. She's probably worried about me," he informed Harry.

Harry was torn between letting him go and demanding he stay so they could talk. "You can go see your mother, if you'd like. There is something I wanted to talk to you about though, so maybe we could do that first? If you're not up for it, I completely understand," Harry added hastily.

Draco froze, clearly apprehensive about what Harry wanted to talk about it. "Uh, well, I guess we could talk. What did you want to talk about?"

Harry gestured to the living room and sat down on the couch, Draco following suite. Harry took a deep breath and turned to face Draco, who was studiously avoiding his eyes. "Well, during the trial, you said something rather interesting," Harry began playfully.

The color drained slightly from Draco's face, but he stayed composed. "Did I?" he responded innocently.

"Yes, very interesting."

"And what was that?" Draco asked, one eyebrow cocked in question, his eyes flickering in panic, betraying his calm exterior.

Harry figured it was best to just get to the point. "Well, you were under veritaserum so I know you weren't lying, and you said that you're in love with me. Do you know why I think that's particularly interesting?" Harry teased, moving closer to Draco on the couch.

"Why?" Draco breathed in anticipation.

Harry leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against Draco's. He pulled back just far enough so that he could look into Draco's wide, shocked eyes. "I think it's very interesting because I think I'm in love with you too," he whispered, before leaning in to capture Draco's waiting lips in a proper kiss.

As Draco leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth to allow Harry's tongue entry, Harry contemplated their situation. He knew that the road ahead of them would be a difficult one, what with helping Draco cope with Azkaban and facing the wrath of the Wizarding community, but he also felt that it would all be worth it. Once Harry had realized that he returned the ex-Slytherin's feelings, it was as if the world had snapped into focus, like everything up until that point had been blurry. This gorgeous, complicated man loved him, and that's all that mattered, everyone else's opinions be damned.


End file.
